A Conartist by Any Other Name
by binkeybella
Summary: Tony's gut still tells him his old man is a conman. Should he believe it? Just a hint for the story - I still do.


**Welll, I'll probably get pummeled for this one after last night's episode, but it's still wanting to be written. I really liked last night's 'Artful Dodger' ep, but not for all the same reasons others did. Yeah, I know, still not making any sense. On to the fic. Not beta'd.**

**/**

Turning the key in the lock of Gibbs' front door, Tony tried to remember the last time he had crashed one of the man's mornings off. He used to wake up on the man's couch and stumble down to the basement to wake up his boss and make him breakfast, but that had been forever ago; now Vance and an odd assortment of ex-wives and ex-girlfriends seemed to be more welcome in Gibbs' bear cave than his Senior Field Agent. Well, he couldn't make the man invite him over, and he certainly couldn't force him to like him anymore than he already did, which seemed to be not a whole hell of a lot the past several years.

He'd enjoyed himself last night, making fantastic bread, among other things, with Zoe, but he'd made sure to leave his work day,_ and_ his daddy issues at the office. Honest to God, how in the hell did the two things keep intertwining for him? None of the rest of the team had to suffer through their father traipsing into the bullpen any and every time they had a notion, and on top of that, wreaking wall to wall havoc and not even caring. It wasn't something he wanted to get into with Zoe – one less person to know what a whackadoodle he had for a father. He sure as hell didn't want her thinking it might be hereditary.

He locked the door behind him and headed for the basement, seeing both living room and kitchen devoid of their owner. Stopping to grab some coffee, he filled the mug half way and hoped there was some non-sour milk to be had to soften the blow of the motor-oil he was about to ingest. _Maybe_ ingest, if Gibbs was in the mood for his visit. He never knew anymore with the man. People liked to make a big deal of how unpredictable Anthony DiNozzo was, that on a good day, he might prank the hell out of you, and on a bad one, shoot you through the eyeball, and no one had any way of knowing which day would be which.

And somehow that all seemed perfectly acceptable for Gibbs, but Tony was odd man out anymore, if he'd ever actually been in, that is. He'd worn rose-colored glasses a good share of the years he'd been on Gibbs' team, refusing to see things for what they were. There was no doubt in his own mind that he was good at his job, that he had contributed buckets of blood, sweat and tears to the team's phenomenal closure rate. And for a few years he'd had no doubt that it was appreciated by that team, and the agency itself. Things had gone to hell in a hand basket at a steady rate after Cate had died, and for the life of him, he hadn't been able to figure out why. By the time Ziva had left the team, he'd given up entirely.

And now his father kept jumping into the fray, mixing things up even further between himself and the team, and making him feel even more estranged from him than ever. Yesterday – yesterday had been tough on him. Maybe rougher than the other times Senior had rolled into town and turned it upside down with his own unique brand of tough love. It was tougher to love that man than Gibbs himself. And lately Tony wasn't sure how deeply that went anymore, either. He guessed he'd know more in the next few minutes.

"Boss? You down here?"

"Car's in the drive, coffee's on. Where else would I be, Sherlock?"

Tony tried a half-smile. He wasn't ever sure anymore when Gibbs was ragging on him or just calling him out as stupid. The half-smile faded when he saw the large piece of furniture Gibbs was in the process of hand-sanding to a silk finish.

"Wow! That's – where're you gonna put that, Boss, that's kinda _big _for your dining room."

"Not for my dining room. It's a baby hutch, for Breena. Jimmy said she wanted one."

Huh. All the years he'd known Gibbs, the man hadn't built him even a pencil holder. He had started building Tony a spice cabinet for his kitchen but then had abandoned it after the accident that had put him in a coma and sent him to Mexico. Barely half done, he couldn't remember who he had been building it for, and trashed the thing while packing up his house to put it on the market.

Now the man had built an ornate hutch for the wife of a colleague he loved to harass and intimidate?

"Huh. Well. Okay." Tony shook his head, not knowing what else to do with himself and his thoughts.

"Your dad get to Europe safe and sound?"

"Yes. Landed in Brussels this morning. Oh-three-thirty. I know that because just once, he decided to call me as soon as he got there."

Gibbs took the hint, knowing that the younger man was still smarting over the fact that Senior had made him drive to the airport and end up stranded because he couldn't be bothered to let his son know he wasn't going to be on the plane. Worse still, there had been an assassin on the plane, and Tony had been frantic with worry that Senior would entangle himself yet again in the dangerous situation. Anymore it seemed to be a 'like son, like father' thing with DiNozzo the elder.

"So what's the problem. DiNozzo?"

"What makes you think there's a problem, Boss? Maybe I just stopped by to see what you were doing down here. Haven't been by in a while."

"Nope." Gibbs answered, stopping to put a new piece of paper on his sander.

"Uh – you know what, it's been good visiting with you, I'll see you Monday morning."

Tony turned to leave and Gibbs never looked up from his work.

"Asked you what the problem was, Tony."

"Not a problem, really. Just a question. An opinion, really. Tim said my father got upset when he found out I told you guys he was a con man. He insists he's not, that he's really an entrepreneur. Just wondered if I was being too hard on him, you know, seeing things all cock-eyed because of the way I grew up."

"Yeah, probably." Gibbs looked up in time to see Tony's crest-fallen look and sighed. "Look, DiNozzo, I'm really not the right person to be asked this."

"And why is that, do you think? I mean, should I be asking one of the team? McGee? My father's newest favorite long-lost son? 'Cause if Tim thinks he's the first one to come along, he's sadly mistaken. He's just one in a long line of BFFs. My father relates pretty much to anyone's son but his own."

"Why do you think that is, Tony?"

Tony turned to leave for real this time, but Gibbs stopped him with a firm hand to his shoulder.

"I'm not trying to be a smart ass, Tony, I -"

"Well then that's a first, Boss, 'cause I can't tell with you anymore! I've felt like an outsider on this team since longer than I can remember, and it doesn't help when my father comes to town and does a number on my psyche! At least I used to have you to depend on to be the voice of reason when it came to him, but now he's sucked you in just like the rest of them!"

"He hasn't done anything of the sort to me, DiNozzo," Gibbs fired back, tossing the sander onto the bench behind him, "it's just that I know him better now and see things from a different perspective!"

"Yeah." Tony sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I get it. Look, sorry I bothered you, I'm gonna head out."

"DiNozzo. Stay. We're not finished with this yet."

"Boss, there's really nothing more to say, at least that won't get me tossed out of here on the toe of your boot."

Gibbs blinked at the younger man, trying to get a bead on exactly where the guy was coming from. Things had changed between them, they _had _drifted apart, but he wanted to think he was still Tony's friend besides his hard ass boss.

"Tell me what you're thinking, Tony, I promise I won't get pissed and toss you out."

"Maybe you should have offered me a drink like you used to. Easier to get the real juicy stuff out of me when I've had a couple."

Gibbs went to pour a couple shots for them, but Tony held up his hand.

"No, I can't. I gotta drive home. I can say what I need to without the booze now. Some of it, anyways. I just need you to know that no matter how many times my father visits here, it never gets any easier for me. He schmoozes and charms, you all get closer to him, and I end up farther back in the picture, because I don't play his game. I've said some unflattering things about him in the past, and you can believe me or not believe me, but those were just the tip of the iceberg. He got angry and hurt because I tell everyone he's a conman.

"And yet all these years that I've been busting my ass and risking my life as a cop and federal agent, he's been telling everyone I'm a freaking catalogue model. I mean, what the _hell? _He wants me to believe he hasn't been a con artist all these years, and yet he can't tell his associates I'm a cop because it makes them twitchy. You do the math, there, Boss. Anybody that works above board at anything does not have to lie about his own child being in law enforcement. That's something to be _proud_ of, something you brag to your buddies about, not something you hide because it makes your friends try to gut you like a fish."

"So whataya want me to tell ya, Tony? Trade him in? It's kind of late for that now, you're stuck with him. Deal with it."

"Yeah. Nothing new there, just undo about forty years of my life in my head and I'm all set. Done and dusted. He's a misunderstood, under-appreciated father who just can't win for losing with his son. Everyone sees it but me. His only mistake with me is that he tried buying my respect and pride with money and and high-end boarding schools, not ever once thinking that maybe all he needed to get those things from me was some time and encouraging words.

"I didn't lie when I said he told me I'd end up in the gutter, that was his go-to pronouncement any time I wouldn't buy into his latest big plans. I wasn't stupid, even as a kid. I knew what was going on behind the curtain, and there was no great and powerful wizard waiting to reward him with a brain, or a heart, or the courage to do the right thing even if it was hard. He had the opportunity to make an honest living and be around to raise me himself instead of flinging me into any boarding school that was handy at the moment. He chose a different path, where he could use his brain instead of his brawn. Problem is, he wasn't very good at using his brain. Let more people con_ him _out of money he'd borrowed or begged out of family and loan sharks. Sometimes I can't believe he's still alive, the number of people he's crossed, intentionally or otherwise. Guess the same could be said about me, I suppose that's why I'm good at going undercover."

"So now what? Where do you want this to go? Because there's no point in dredging this all up and re-hashing it to anybody if you don't have a game plan to use it in."

"Not a game to me, Boss. And I'm not looking for some magic solution. I only came here to ask you one question, and so far you've done a better job at deflecting than I ever could."

"Tony, it's hard to understand when you're not a father yourself."

"Yeah. That's exactly what Palmer said. That being a dad was hard, so cut the guy some slack. But here's the thing that nobody seems to get, except maybe McGee, and he'll never admit it. There are dads, and then there are fathers. There's a world of difference between the two. You had both. So did Jimmy, and Abby, and Bishop. Most of the time, you called him 'dad', with maybe an occasional 'old man' in front of your buddies. I always called Senior 'Father', or 'Sir'. You picture yourself calling your own dad that all your life, and see if it doesn't put things into perspective on my end."

"So you're telling me you don't love him, either. After I wear my heart on my sleeve in front of everyone telling about my friend who paid his dad's hotel bill."

"Yes, well. You should know better than anybody that you can love someone and not necessarily like them, even a family member. And think about what you just said. About me paying his hotel bill and flight to Monte Carlo. Do you honestly believe that was the first time I bailed him out of some hair-brained scheme he'd started and couldn't finish? He expects it from me, because I've been doing it since I was a teenager. That ten grand I borrowed from Uncle Clive wasn't for living it up on campus. That was to keep him out of an unspeakably bad prison in Rio. Had to bribe a judge and a few customs officers, plus pay his plane fare home.'

"You never said, Tony." Gibbs declared in a rather shocked voice, looking at his SFA in a different light.

"No, I never did. And it doesn't go out of this basement. And that's just it. I've never said half of what has gone on between Senior and myself. It's not only embarrassing, it serves no purpose. It's the past, I can't change it. But I also can't forget it._ Won't _forget it. Because no matter how much of an idiot people like to think I am, I'm not a fool. I have my limits to what I can swallow for that man. And for me to believe anything other than that he's just a slick conman is a bit too much for me to get past my lips. But then I've lost perspective being his son all these years, and the way that you guys see him is so different from the way that I do that – I had to drag out Rule #8."

"I don't dispute any of what you've told me, DiNozzo. I'm not so stuck in my generation that I can't see someone for who they are. But I do know that he doesn't have any real friends, and I know what it's like to be in that situation. Not now, but there have been times. Just know that I'm not trying to throw my friendship with him in your face every time he shows up, I'm just trying to be the middle-man and keep things from spiraling out of control between the two of you. I never meant it to look like I was taking sides."

"Huh. Well, again, perspective. It's a different view from my rung down here. I only see two men, one whom I respect the hell out of, and one that couldn't have given a shit about me most of my life until he needed me for something, and all of a sudden they were best buds, and teaming up to show me my place. He abandoned me before I even had time to grieve my mother passing, and it felt like you all took his side and made it seem okay. I wasn't surprised at it coming from McGee and Ziva, it was their warped way of getting back at me for whatever I and every bully and double-agent had supposedly ever done to them in their life-times. It hurt coming from you, though. I figured that on this issue, at the very least, you would have my six."

"I did, Tony. I flat-out told him what he was missing out on and that he needed to try to have something closer with you."

"And how did that work out for ya, Boss? The man either blows into town without even telling me and turns the District upside down, or cancels our hard-made plans at the last minute. There's never any in-between with him. He doesn't have the capacity to have the sort of relationship I need to have with him, I know that, I've always known that, and I don't know why I let myself think I _didn't _know that. He can hug me and tell me he loves me all he wants, but it's words, Boss. I need deeds. Actions. Not promises and blackmail."

"So I asked you before. What're you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. Nothing different than what I'm already doing. I'm not going to edit him out of my life, I'm not a monster. I just needed to know that my gut wasn't leading me down a blind path because of my history with him. I don't ever want to live in regret that I didn't take the high road and do the best I could to be a good son to him. It's not conditional for me, not like he raised me to believe _his _love was.

I have to love him in spite of all that's happened, and find all the positive things in him that I can. And let me tell you, it's not easy."

"I never made it easy for ya, DiNozzo. You got so you liked me pretty well after a while."

"Yeah. Well, like I said, you can love someone and not necessarily like them."

Gibbs made an odd face, not really sure that, with the mood his SFA was in if Tony was yanking his chain or letting him see the truth. He was thinking perhaps that maybe he didn't really want to know at the moment. After the past few years of too many plans and ops gone awry, he'd shut the younger man out of his life to a higher degree than he had really intended to, and now he was paying the price. There was still trust there, and respect, and whatever else was needed to work as a team. But there was a lot missing that used to be there, too, and Gibbs was sadly aware that he might not ever get it back. Wasn't even sure where to try to start the process, but perhaps joining in a united front with DiNozzo, Senior, wasn't the best way to go about it.

"I know things have been tough the last few years. I've asked you to do things I knew went against the grain with you, hell, some of them pushed the boundaries beyond where I should have had any expectations of you sticking around. But like with your father, you don't do or not do things on condition . And I suppose that neither of us deserve that from you now, or ever did. You should know, though, that we do appreciate it. Your father might be too self-absorbed to see it, but I do. And it means a lot, even though I don't have the sense to let you know it. So I'm letting you know it now. I appreciate your loyalty and all you've done for the team."

"Thanks, Boss." Tony all but whispered in reply. "I didn't come here for that, but thanks. It's good to know that I'm not just wasting desk space and taxpayer money."

Gibbs smiled at his second, his eyes bestowing something akin to a benediction on the younger man. Tony's admission to bailing his father out of more than just one or two tight spots had startled him, something that wasn't easy to do to him anymore. If he was totally honest with himself, even without that admission Gibbs would have a difficult time believing that Senior was anything more than a snake oil salesman.

"Anyways, it doesn't matter what I believe he is. He believes he's an entrepreneur because he believes in what he's selling. I didn't have the strength to argue with him. Wouldn't have done any good, other than to make things worse again. He sees what he wants to see, just like the rest of us. Doesn't make him a good business man. You can have the best sales pitch in the world, but you gotta have the product to back it up. Otherwise they're gonna tar and feather ya and run ya out of town. Just like how it is with him and me. He keeps trying to sell me something he can't follow through on, no matter how much he wants to. He just doesn't have the goods."

"So far you've managed not to have tarred and feathered him."

"No, but I have hurried him to the airport and train station more than once."

Gibbs grinned at that. He certainly understood and appreciated what Tony went through every time the wayward parent landed on their doorstep.

"I'm gonna head out, Boss, it's getting late and I promised Zoe I'd meet her for drinks when she got off work."

The older man nodded, and went back to sanding the hutch in front of him. His head down, he didn't see his SFA give the him, and the piece of furniture, a longing look. Maybe he would talk Zoe into taking a couples wood-working class.


End file.
